Belarus's Guide to Marrying an American
by liondancer17
Summary: In which Belarus tries 100 ways to marry America, but she didn't count on one thing-he doesn't think she's serious. And he finds himself wishing she was. AmeBel
1. Chapter 1

A/N

*Is ducking under a chair, waiting for angry readers* YES, I KNOW I HAVE TO GET MY BUTT IN GEAR FOR MY OTHER STORIES, BUT THE PLOT BUNNIES KEPT APPEARING FOR THIS ONE!

Please don't kill me. T^T

I promise, I'm going to work on _If I Die Young_ after working on a really, really old fic for a different fandom, but this is going to be posted first. I promise!

*Is struck with a grenade*

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.

XxxxX(Belarus's POV)XxxxX

Belarus wanted to be married to him. It was all she ever thought about, _'marriage, marriage, marriage!'_ She followed him wherever he went, always waiting for the right moment to ask him. He never said yes, he acted as if she wasn't there. It made her so upset! She always dressed her very best for him, and it made her so upset!

Still…she loved him. And she knew he loved her…if only he let himself feel that way! Then they could finally be married, like they were always meant to be!

Belarus waited outside the door for a minute, engagement rings in hand, preparing herself. Until that moment, she had never tried in public before. Belarus took a breath, and walked inside.

Immediately, Brother tensed, and he pulled Latvia, who was sitting two seats away, into the empty seat next to him. The poor Baltic state nearly died of fright. Brother's eyes locked onto the rings in her hand and she offered him a small smile. All colour drained from Brother's face as she walked closer.

His violet eyes watched her as she walked by, ignoring the empty seat close to him. She continued around the table, and seated herself next to _him, _Alfred F. Jones. She watched him look up with surprise at her, and his eyes briefly darted to Russia, before landing back on her again. She twisted the engagement rings in her hand, unsure what to do now. She could just ask him again, but she wasn't sure if it would work…

"Hey Bela, why aren't you sitting by Russia? Did he do something?" Alfred asked. Belarus shook her head.

"I wanted to sit by you." She replied simply. He looked surprised, then smiled.

"Of course! I love sitting next to pretty girls like you." He replied. Belarus froze, her cheeks reddening. This was why she liked him, he was _nice_.

He liked her, obviously. Otherwise he wouldn't be so…forward! Now was the time, she would be married.

"Alfred." She stated bluntly. He tilted his head. She took his hand, and slipped the ring on, doing the same to her hand.

"_Marry me. Marry me, marry me, marry me!_" she demanded. He blinked, lifting up his hand, and starting at the band. It was a fine gold one, with three stones, a ruby, a sapphire, and a pearl. She spent a lot of money on it, and the band she wore, a ruby and emerald one. A wide grin split his lips, and her heart skipped a beat.

Then he laughed.

"Wow, it has Russia's colours, too! I'm sure he'll love it, Bela! Why don't you try?" he asked. Belarus's eyes widened. He didn't…he didn't take her seriously?

She stood up, taking her papers with her, and she stormed out, slamming the door behind her. Belarus looked down at her hand, where the ring still sat.

He didn't take his off. She glanced back through the window. It was still there, and she saw him staring out the door, where she had left, looking both confused and…sad?

Yes. Sad.

Belarus took out a paper from her folder. A list, of ways she would get him to marry her. She was a very determined girl; he would do it, one way or the other!

The direct approach.

A failure. She crossed it out.

There were still ninety-nine ways left, though…

XXXxxxXXXxxxXXX

A/N If you have any other plans for Bela to use, just suggest them! Please review~


	2. Chapter 2

A/N

I have had a sudden attack of feels for AmeBel, so I sat my butt down and decided to write this.

I hope you guys enjoy my awaited return!

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia

XXXxxxX(Belarus's POV)XxxxXXX

A couple of days had passed, days where the Belarusian girl tried to think of new plans to win her hero's heart. Natalya watched him from afar (a perfectly normal way to court someone, or at least that's what she thought) she had learned his habits, where he went, what he liked, so that she could….accidentally bump into him again.

And so, the Belarusian girl stood in the middle of New York City, in front of the gate of the hotel he was staying at, waiting, rocking back and forth nervously on her polished Mary-Janes, occasionally adjusting her hair or her apron, trying to summon the courage to just buzz him down and _talk to him._

'_God…when did I become such a girl?'_

Natalya took another breath, and shifted nervously some more. She held a carefully made, red, white, and blue lunch in her hands. Homemade hamburgers, a whole bunch, fries that she had peeled and boiled and salted herself, two pies, apple and French silk, all homemade, as well as a Mienski honey cake, a bottle of Kvass, and a liter of coke. She hoped he didn't mind that she added her own favourite drink and cake, what if it made him refuse her?

Natalya took one last breath, and pressed a shaky finger to the buzzer. The doorman answered, and Belarus requested for Alfred Jones to see her. The doorman agreed, and Belarus was left standing outside, her heart pounding, waiting.

After a couple of minutes, the door opened to a smiling, joyful America. Natalya fought down a blush at his breathtaking smile, and she instead reached out, grabbing his hand in a death grip.

"Alfred, I made you lunch. Eat it with me. Now. And marry me, please?" she said, the words tumbling out so fast that she could barely understand herself. America blinked, a light blush spreading across his cheeks.

"A-ah, if you want, Natalya….is this some weird practice thing?" he asked.

"No, Marry me." She said, wrapping her arms around his middle, hiding her face in his chest. Men don't like weak women. So she naturally couldn't let him see her blush.

'_He is so soft and warm….his heart….I can hear it beating…..'_

"R-r-right….p-please….let go….god….Ivan is so lucky."

XXXxxxX(Alfred's POV)XXxxXXX

'_She can't be serious. I mean, just look at her. This girl is a goddess. She's so beautiful, she can have anyone. So why would she settle for me?' _ Alfred thought, looking at Natalya. They were both seated on a picnic blanket in central park; the various things Natalya had packed were spread around them, as well as a vase of roses that she had brought as well. Red roses, white roses, and…painted blue ones. It made Alfred blush to think that such a beautiful girl could do this all for him. But….those were Ivan's colours too, right? She was probably just testing how a man would react to being treated like this.

He watched her as she drank a glass of kvass, trying to be subtle about his stare. She was just so beautiful in every way. Her pale skin seemed to glow subtly in the light, as if she was a real goddess. Her lips were pink flower petals against snow, and they looked so….kissable. Her long, elegant fingers looked like tapered candles, and she was seated so elegantly, so regally, like a queen.

He could almost see a silver diadem perched upon her blanket of silver hair, and a pair of feathery, pure wings unfurling from her petite shoulders. She looked like a princess, someone he as the hero should rescue, even though he knew she was more than capable of handling herself.

And that was part of why she was so….alluring. The hauntingly beautiful, strong, woman with an unyielding loyalty to the one she loved.

Too bad it would never be Alfred.

"America….did you….like this meal?" Belarus asked. America blinked out of his trance, surprised that they had already eaten all the food, and smiled at her, nodding. The angel reached out and wrapped her arms around his right arm, which he immediately held up, like a gentleman. Natalya buried her face into his shoulder, her fingers curling into his jacket, like she was afraid to let go.

"Marry me." She whispered.

Alfred's heart sank. He almost wanted to cry out in frustration. He wanted her to be serious, more than anything.

"Sure, Bela. Whatever you want." He replied. He felt her grip loosen, and she stood up, not looking at him. She packed away the extras, took the blanket, and the dishes. She put it all away, and she stood up, facing away.

"I'll be back tomorrow." She said, while walking away.

"Please…stay…." America said, not loud enough for his voice to carry to her ears. "Stay and let me marry you…"

XXXxxxXXXxxxXXX

A/N Please review! And someone please get it through their thick skulls that they like each other…


	3. Chapter 3

A/N

I'm finally back! I hope you guys like this! Here we go!

A/N I don't own anything but the words below.

* * *

(Belarus's POV)

The platinum-blonde lay on her back, absently running her fingers through the cat that lay on her chest. The cat's fur was white-almost as pale as Belarus's hair-save for a collar of longer, darker fur around the cat's neck. Thin, black fur was under the cat's eyes, it rather resembled glasses. The cat lay curled up on her chest, purring contentedly in a state of almost-sleep.

Belarus called her beautiful cat Hero, after the one she loved...her hero. She really did think of her American that way. He...saved her. It was such a strange thing to think...that he made her feel loved, that he...saved her, from herself. America saved her from feeling worthless...from thinking that no one but brother could ever care about her. She...felt like she was worth something, something no one had ever done before.

So why..._why_ hadn't she taken the chance to be with him? Why had she only seen her brother?

Natalia shut her eyes, while Hero padded closer, tucking his head under Natalia's chin, his bottle-brush tail whispering over her face. Natalia shut her eyes, and tried to remember when he had saved her.

* * *

_1918._

_After the February revolution, her people had made her independent from Russia. She did not want to be, of course. Why would she ever want to be away from her precious older brother? But she was a representative of her people, so she had signed for her independence. Her government wished for her to be taken in by America, so that she may be recognized by the strong nation. She protested, of course. She didn't even speak English! However, America was able to speak Belarusian, so she was sent anyway. Natalia was surprised that the predominantly English-speaking nation could speak to her perfectly in her native language, as if he had been raised in her land. She dismissed this, however, and spoke not a word to Alfred F. Jones.  
_

_For the first few weeks, she was cold and distant. She didn't even bother to unpack her suitcase, save for hanging her various dresses in the closet. She spent most of her time either sleeping or reading, ignoring America whenever he decided to talk to his new guest. She couldn't understand why her government wanted her to befriend such a loud, obnoxious, irritating, and disgusting idiot. How could he possibly be useful to her government? Belarus didn't understand, and quite frankly, she didn't care. As long as he decided to recognize her, she could go home. She could go home and finally be with her brother, and she could love him and make him see why he should love her.  
_

_It was toward the end of her time in America that he decided to take her out. Everyday, he would ask her to go with him to some cafe he knew. Everyday, she would reply no, and everyday a new rose he brought her was added to the bouquet that was quickly growing in a vase on her desk._

_Finally, after weeks of him asking, she agreed. There was only one thing that he asked of her: to not wear her maid dress. He said it was because she wasn't his maid, she was his friend, so he didn't want him dressing like a servant.  
_

_He was an idiot...brother gave her this dress...but she did anyway, to get him to shut up.  
_

_Her first impression of seeing America was...shock. His unruly blonde hair was neatly done, not combed back like Germany, but none of it stuck up anymore. He had traded Texas for a more professional pair of glasses, and he was now dressed in a fine Italian suit, the blue dress shirt that he wore underneath the silk black made his eyes stand out even more. He was even wearing white gloves. The only indication of his loud, American pride was a small, golden eagle pin on his tie. Belarus couldn't help but stare, she had never seen America looking so...professional, so...just...elegant.  
_

_But **definitely ****not **handsome.  
_

_America held out his arm for her, and Belarus looked blankly at it. After a moment, America smiled and took her hand (causing Belarus to flinch) and he put it in the crook of his elbow. Belarus let her hand stay there, looking away from the American. The strange thing about Natalia is that she had always been afraid of touching. Even if brother touched her, without her knowing, she would always flinch away. But now...  
_

_...now...it felt nice to hold someone. She felt...protected.  
_

_Not that it could compare to brother, of course.  
_

_Without realizing it, Belarus leaned against him, drawing his arm closer. She shut her eyes, trying to enjoy the strange feeling, being able to touch someone without feeling like she was going to be hurt.  
_

_She didn't feel his fingers gently tangle in her hair, or the way his lips ghosted over the top of her head.  
_

_Natalia was rather surprised to see the place he had taken her to. It was a cafe, a small one, with the name '_Bella Luna_' painted onto the windows. It wasn't the restaurant she had expected, after seeing America dressed so finely.  
_

_"This is the best Italian restaurant I have ever been to. These guys are true Italians, and their food tastes like it's from Florence itself." America told her, smiling excitedly. Belarus looked blankly at him, then she released his arm and walked to the door, only for America to open it for her, bowing ridiculously before her. Belarus simply walked inside, looking around.  
_

_It was a nice place, not showy, but not bad. They were the only ones in the restaurant, she noticed. Had he planned it this way?_

_America took her to a booth, and a waitress walked over to them. She requested their orders in a thick Italian accent, to which America simply replied "Double the usual." The waitress smiled, throwing a wink at America while she walked back to the cafe.  
_

_Belarus kind of wished she brought her knives with her, so she could kill that girl.  
_

_The food was excellent, like Feliciano had made it himself. Natalia even wondered if the American had hired him for the night, but dismissed the idea. Jazz music danced through the restaurant, and America stood up, holding a hand out to Natalia. The Belarusian stared blankly up at him.  
_

_"Will you let me have this dance?" America asked, his eyes shining with excitement. Belarus, very hesitantly, put her hand in his. America pulled her up, and spun her close, until she was against his chest, his arm around her waist. Natalia's eyes widened, and she felt heat rising to her cheeks.  
_

_"I call this music style 'swing', it makes you want to dance, doesn't it?" America asked, his voice causing his chest to vibrate slightly. Natalia didn't say a word.  
_

_"Here, I'll teach you how to dance." America told her. He spun her again, holding gently onto her hand. "Just follow my lead."  
_

_The radio switched from song to song, each one as energetic as the last. By the time closing came for the restaurant, both dancers were exhausted. The dance ended with both of them in their original stance, Natalia against Alfred's chest, his arm around her waist, her fingers twined with his.  
_

_Somehow, she didn't mind him touching her.  
_

_Before she could figure out why, she had to leave. The next time she would see her American was 1991, after the Cold War ended.  
_

* * *

_Belarus had changed, just a little. Her fear was back, so she sat as far away from America as she could, not looking him in the eyes. She never looked at him, he made her too angry. Somehow, after her stay with him, she had grown to not want to touch brother, either. She flinched at just the thought of anyone laying a hand on her. She hated it.  
_

_When America entered, it was with a bundle of roses and tulips, wrapped in white silk. He layed the flowers before her, smiling.  
_

_"What do you want?" she asked him, her voice cold and biting.  
_

_"Nothing, Natalia. I just wanted to give you these." he replied, smiling hopefully._

"I like sunflowers." she said coldly. His smile fell.

_"Do you know what these flowers mean?" he asked.  
_

_"No." she replied flatly, not looking at him.  
_

_"You should look it up sometime, Bela." he said, laying them before her.  
_

_"Shut up. I just want to be recognized." she snapped, still looking up.  
_

_"I recognize you." America replied, pushing the paper to her. She took it, standing up, and walking out.  
_

_"Good. Now leave, America." she added, walking out.  
_

_She came back after he left, taking the flowers, and putting them in a vase, throwing out the wilted sunflowers she had saved for years.  
_

* * *

_He had truly saved her the next day. Russia, as usual, screamed at her to leave. However, this time was different. He had yelled at her that he would never love her, that she was a freak, that no one could love her more than a sister.  
_

_Belarus had come home, tears streaming down her face, slamming the door behind her. She spotted her sharpest knives on her vanity.  
_

_She could, if she really wanted to.  
_

_Who would miss her?  
_

_Then Natalia saw the roses sitting on her windowsill. They were a brilliant scarlet, blooming the deepest red she had ever seen. She remembered what he had told her...for some reason, she looked it up.  
_

_Tulips and roses both meant deep, everlasting love.  
_

_Belarus's mind spun as she stared at the bouquet. He...no...he couldn't. Brother...she loved brother.  
_

_Why did she love brother?  
_

_Brother protected her...he loved her...  
_

_No...he didn't.  
_

_And Alfred...Alfred was sweet, he was kind, he wanted her, he protected her, and he...he...loved her.  
_

_Tears flowed, but they were another kind. Just emotion, not tears of sorrow, tears of...something she couldn't identify...  
_

_She decided that she would marry him...once she figured out how.  
_

* * *

__A/N I hope you guys like this! Please review!


	4. Chapter 4

A/N

Thank you for all the kind reviews! Oh, in case I haven't already told you, there will definitely not be 100 ways. It's just going to progress naturally. As in, I have absolutely no control over this...my fingers are just the medium to transfer this story to the computer with...

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

* * *

(Belarus's POV)

She heard a knock on the door, and she was shocked out of her memories. Sitting up, Natalya took her black and white hero in her arms, looking blankly out the window. Hero curled against her chest, the black collar of fur brushing against her skin, and his blue eyes focused on her face, and he gave a smile the way that cats only could, with his wide, glowing eyes. Natalya couldn't help but smile, just a little, at Hero's charming nature. Her cat was so cute, so lazy. He was such a pig, too, and he always demanded her attention. The minute Natalya sat down, Hero would crawl into her lap, snuggling close against her soft form. He was such a cute, little piglet, and the perfect cat for her.

Looking out the window, she tilted her head. The car was a sleek, dark black, the colour of the night sky.

Snow covered it.

It always confused Belarus, why the warm nations loved snow. Snow was always so cold, so hurtful. It froze people to death, isolated them, and made them cold and immune to warmth. She hated snow, she always would. Perhaps that was why she used to love brother so much. He understood it all, he understood how cold, how pained, how lonely she was. Brother understood her hatred of snow, he understood why she was so alone. She clung to him, she tried so hard to make him completely understand. At the time, she didn't know, but she had convinced herself that she loved him in a different way, a different way other than the sisterly love she knew that she felt now...

But...why did she want someone who couldn't help her? Someone who would never protect her like Alfred did...someone who would never make her feel so warm, so loved, so complete...

He was her sun, in many ways. He even looked like it. Eyes warm like the sky, a smile as white and shining as the clouds, hair like the sun...and he was even warmer, warmer than the sun. He made her feel loved, even if he didn't feel that way about her anymore. Just being around him made her so, so happy...

Her eyes suddenly felt hot, and she touched her face in shock. Why was she crying? She didn't feel sad...she just...felt...she didn't know what she felt. Why did she feel like this...? Her heart swelled in her chest at just the thought, and she held her kitten closer to her chest, her hands trembling slightly. She bit her lip, still confused at the hot tears streaming down her cheeks.

She blinked, trying to focus her tear-blurred gaze on the figure emerging from the car. Her eyes widened when she saw Alfred emerging from the red car, and she raced down the stairs of her house, pausing on the staircase.

Her house...her dark, empty, lonely house...

How long had it been since someone had come over? She honestly couldn't remember...her sister used to visit, until Belarus threatened to kill her for stealing Belarus's time away from Russia. She had scared everyone away, everyone. Lithuania used to crush on her, but she scared him away, and he found love with Poland...

She had no one, no one...and it was all her fault...

This time, the tears that streamed down her cheeks were tears of sorrow. She crumpled to her knees, cradling Hero against her chest. Her cat looked up at her, purring, trying to comfort its crying owner. She ran her hands through his soft fur, burying her face in his soft, white hair, crying.

She was so alone...so isolated...and it was all her fault...

Her head shot up when she heard the doorbell ringing. Standing up, she walked over to the door, trying desperately to wipe her tears away from her cheeks, she opened the door. Alfred was standing there, holding a bouquet of roses, with a box underarm, looking right at her. The tears started again, and Belarus dropped to her knees, crying. She sobbed her heart out, not sure what to think, not sure what to say. She just cried and cried and cried...

"N-Natalya?" Alfred cried out, dropping to one knee. Natalya didn't look up, rather, she just kept crying, unable to stop, unable to explain why she felt like this...

She heard the soft, muted sound of the presents dropping to the floor. She felt Alfred wrap his arms around her, pulling her tight against him. She cried harder and harder, hiding her face in his shoulder, pressing as close as she could to his body.

He was warm.

He was so, so warm...

She had no idea how long she was held like that. She had no idea how long he held her, how long he stroked her hair and whispered things she couldn't understand in her ear. She didn't know what she said...and she didn't care. She was simply limp in his arms, like a doll being held.

After a long time, she just lay there, limp in his arms. Natalya could feel nothing, nothing but the warmth he gave her, and she heard nothing but his breath, and his simple, steady heartbeat. Alfred didn't complain, and he didn't shift her in his arms, never doing anything without asking. After a long time, she looked up, meeting his eyes. He offered her a small, gentle smile.

"Are you okay now?" he asked her. Belarus nodded blankly, and buried her face once more in his chest. She didn't see the brilliant blush coat his cheeks, or feel him jump just the smallest bit at the contact.

It was so strange...Belarus hated to be touched, but she liked being touched by America.

It was only then that she heard soft mewls and scratching. America laughed a little nervously, blushing a little at Natalya being interrupted.

"That's...Natalya..." Alfred explained, sheepishly rubbing his neck. Belarus tilted her head.

"Natalya?"

"A cat...I found her yesterday...she reminded me of you, so I named her after you, and brought her here..Tony and Wailord always fight for my attention, so I thought Natalya would be better with the girl I named her after." Alfred continued, his voice progressively getting softer and more hesitant. She swore he was blushing.

"Wailord...?" Belarus asked, still staring blankly up at him.

"My whale...I named him after a Pokemon since he came from Japan." Alfred was almost whispering at this point, clearly embarrassed.

"..."

"I-I'm weird, I know" He stuttered, hiding his face in his hands.

"...I sleep with a flareon plush..." Belarus admitted, not wanting him to hide.

There was a beat of silence.

She jumped when she heard America squee, holding her tight.

"You are the cutest sister ever! Ahhhhhh!" Belarus squeaked when she felt him holding her tight, raising his voice in a childishly excited way. She was blushing, she knew it, and she didn't want him to see.

"T-thank you..."

'_Why won't you call me your wife?'_

* * *

A/N Please review!


	5. Chapter 5

A/N

Ahhhh! So many reviews! You guys are way too nice!

This chapter is loooong overdue, I'm sorry! Just so you guys know, in this story, meetings are a monthly things. They last maybe an hour or two, it's just a way to check up on things. ^^

Disclaimer: blah blah blah, you all know

* * *

(Natalya's POV)

The Belarusian took a deep breath as she adjusted her dress. Squeezing her eyes shut, she took another deep breath, fighting down an angry, red blush. Sitting down in a chair that she had recently acquired, Belarus thought.

She had tried this before, of course. It wasn't her first time trying to win someone's heart, after all. She had tried to win her Brother's heart for a very long time. But this...this was different. This wasn't her brother...this...this was _Alfred..._

Natalya smoothed her dress again, biting her lip. She had never, ever been this nervous before. With Brother, it was always different. Brother would always reject her, but Belarus was never upset. She would simply try again, undeterred. Brother's feelings never mattered this much to her. Just as long as he _ acknowledged her, _just as long as he _was aware she existed, _Belarus was happy.

But Alfred...Alfred was different. She wanted more than for him to just acknowledge her existence. Belarus wanted him to look at her with those sky-blue eyes, and to see them glow like the fireworks he loved so much. She wanted him to touch her, to hold her, and to just...just _love her. _It wasn't the desperate, lonely obsession she had with Brother. This...this was a deep ache that filled her. It was an ache that left Belarus completely hollow, save for when she saw him. America and his beautiful, endless smile...just being around him filled her with warmth. It was nothing that Belarus had never felt before. It was as if the sun itself had settled into her chest, filling Natalya with...just...happiness.

Yes...that was it. Whenever Belarus was around him, she felt _happy_. Happy and needed and...

...loved.

Belarus felt _loved _by him. Belarus, the scary, psychotic, monster felt loved by America, the happy, carefree, _hero._

So...so Belarus _needed _this. She _needed _him to feel happy, so that she could be happy. She loved him so much that it hurt, more than she had ever felt for anyone. She loved him so, so, so much. She didn't care about their governments. She didn't care about politics; about history. In Belarus's mind, she wasn't Belarus. In her mind, she was a girl. She was Natalya Arvloskya, a girl who happened to be Belarusian, and was in love with Alfred Jones.

The ironic thing was that Natalya never knew that Alfred laid in bed, late at night, thinking nearly the exact same thing.

* * *

(Alfred's POV)

Alfred sighed to himself as he pinched the bridge of his nose. He hated these things. They were always so annoying. The meetings took away from his video game time, for God's sake! Toni was going to beat his ass if he didn't get back to leveling up his dragon-born! Besides, nothing ever happened at these things. The long-ass annual meeting, which always lasted the entire day, was enough, right? Why did they need these things! No one ever paid attention, anyway. Hell, Kiku was playing Pokemon right in the middle of the meeting!

About half and hour into the meeting, the door opened. The nations-most of whom had been half-asleep-snapped awake.

America's reaction was quite an interesting one. His eyes grew wide, and a scarlet blush bloomed across his face. His mouth fell open with an audible pop, a sound almost half as loud as the American's heart.

Belarus was standing in the doorway, giving a challenging glare to the other nations, most of whom were staring with wide, disbelieving eyes at her.

Falling about halfway down her thighs was a pink, ruffly, french-maid dress. Underneath the pink frills were fishnet stockings, which came up to the Belarusian's thighs, ending in a garter that disappeared under the tiny skirt. The top of the dress was very low-cut, unbelievably so, and the American tried his hardest to remain a gentleman and keep his eyes from straying to places he shouldn't look.

The Belarusian strode across the room, her mary-janes clicking with each step, the sound amplified by the dead silence of the entire room. Belarus stopped before America, who slowly turned and looked up at her.

"There is nowhere left to sit." she told him simply. America blinked and counted. She was right. Belarus's chair was missing...

"I'm sorry, do you want me to stand and let you sit instead?" America offered. Belarus shook her head.

"Scoot back." she ordered. Alfred did so, and Belarus nodded.

He could have sworn she was blushing.

America let out an audible sound of surprise as Belarus sat down in his lap. The platinum blonde adjusted herself, laying her head against his chest. Alfred blushed harder when she shut her eyes, as if she was going to sleep on him. He felt her adjust herself, pressing her cheek to his heart.

America stared wide-eyed at her, blushing hard. Her butt was directly over his crotch, and he could feel her breasts pressed against him. Hell, he could see them, just looking down at her. America forced himself to look away, flashing a shaky hero smile at the room, which was staring, dead-silent at the two nations.

"B-Belarus, y-you know, y-you don't have to s-sit on me..." America whispered. "Y-you're making us look like w-we're together..."

"I know." Belarus replied. Her voice was soft and even, clear, though her lips were against his chest. "You're very warm."

"S-sorry..." America whispered back.

"Do you like this dress?" she suddenly asked. America blinked.

"Yes, and I think Ivan will like it too."

Belarus didn't reply for a moment.

"Can you please stay still? I feel tired..."

America ended up staying behind two hours after the meeting ended, Belarus sleeping on top of him.

He didn't mind one moment.

* * *

A/N Please review!


End file.
